I'm so sorry to hear about the strife in your family. It is certainly hard when there is tension between one's child and one's spouse; naturally you want to show love to both of them and inescapably find yourself caught in the middle.

While Jewish law permits you to make whatever pre-arrangements you wish for the disposition of your assets, I would urge you to carefully consider before leaving a legacy of hurt between you and your child, which can never be undone. If all parties are remotely willing, I urge you to seek counseling together to see if there are ways to bridge the divide before it is too late.

One of my favorite sections of the Talmud is Perek HaShalom, the "Chapter on Peace" in which it is written: "See how great is peace [within a family], for its sake even God's name can be erased." (Perek HaShalom 1:9). Our Tradition maintains that we are obligated to go to the further possible lengths to maintain familial harmony. I hope that before you revise your will, as is your right, you will consider whether you have truly expended all efforts to keep your family intact.

Question: I am a single Orthodox convert in a country with a few hundred Jews. Because of this, and because my conversion is not accepted elsewhere, I will probably never get married. I have trouble finding a job because of Shabbat. I know prostitution is frowned upon but how bad would it be if I gained some money through prostitution?

Thank you for your honest and thoughtful question. I'm sorry for the very difficult situation you find yourself in.

If you are truly in such financial straits that you would consider turning to prostitution to survive, then you must work on Shabbat. Our Tradition teaches that protection of life (pikuach nefesh) is a mitzvah that overrides even the most serious prohibitions from the Torah, including the prohibition on working on Shabbat (see Leviticus 18:5, Talmud Bavli Yoma 85b, Shulchan Aruch OH 328:2).

Question: The following question is based on an inquiry to The Ethicist column in the Sunday New York Times Magazine. When there are scientific studies that point to the media having an impact on violent behavior, is it unethical to write, produce or direct violent films and TV shows?

Chuck Klosterman, in his “The Ethicist” column on 1/16/2015, responds to the question of whether artists have a responsibility to limit violent content in their work, out of concern that it might encourage others to commit similar acts of violence. Klosterman generally dismisses this concern, writing:

“If a director makes a propaganda film that actively instructs people to commit violence — well, that would be self-evidently wrong. But this is almost never the case. Artists usually have a different intent. And as long as artists are sincere about those intentions, they have an ethical right to employ imagery that could be subjectively misinterpreted.”

He cites as an example that Charles Manson famously interpreted certain tracks on the Beatles’ White Album to be encouraging him to initiate a race war. He writes:

“It would be insane to view the making of the White Album — and all albums like it — as a potentially unethical act. And while I realize the cinematic image of a person committing murder is less open to interpretation than the lyrics to “Helter Skelter,” the principle is the same: You can’t self-censor art based on the possibility that some people might misunderstand the point.”

While Klosterman is correct about Manson’s patently psychotic misunderstanding of the Beatles, the broad conclusion he draws, exempting artists from any moral responsibility for the work they put into the world is problematic from a Jewish values perspective.

Judaism teaches us that our most important responsibility is to cultivate our ethical character. One of the most oft quoted rabbinic dicta is “Derekh eretz kadma l’Torah,” meaning, “Ethical character comes before Torah.” An ethical person, according to our sources, is one who lives with justice and compassion, who embodies generosity and kindness, who loves others and seeks peace. We are taught to seek things that cultivate those kind of values, and to turn away from things that diminish them.

Art is a powerful way of expressing and disseminating values. Film and television are especially potent vehicles for expressing values, since they are delivered directly into the homes of such a wide swath of the public. Film and television can have profoundly positive impacts on us — promoting tolerance, elevating discourse, and opening minds to new perspectives. They can also easily accomplish the opposite through glorification of extreme violence, exploitative sexuality, negative portrayals of women or minority groups, and other offenses against human dignity. They can promote the development of our character, both individually and collectively, and they can degrade it.

There is no single, clear-cut standard for when a film or television program crosses the line from an artistic depiction of violence or sexuality that tells an important story to something gratuitous and debasing. It is precisely because of the lack of a clear red line that it behooves an artist of any kind to respect their awesome power to influence for good and for ill and to be cautious and intentional in exercising that power. Artists should never be censored from producing challenging work, but they should also not be callous to the real consequences of their expression.

Question: I want to be cremated,but my sister is very upset with my decision as she thinks if one is cremated one loses one's soul whereas if one is buried she says we'd be united again in heaven. She is Orthodox and I am a Reform Jew. Does she have any validity according to Jewish law?

The short answer is no-- there is no such thing as "losing one's soul" and one's place in the World to Come has nothing to do with the state of the body after death. I might ask your sister if she believes that the victims of the Holocaust, literally millions cremated against their will, are denied access to Heaven on that account?

Your sister is right, however, that Jewish law does stronlgly insist on burial, rather than cremation. The reason for this is the principle of "kavod ha-met"- the respect afforded to a body, which was the vehicle for a soul. Our Tradition has maintained that we honor a body best by preserving it intact, and returning it to the Earth to follow the natural process of returning to its source.

Question: Both my parents are Jewish. I live as a Jew, embrace Jewish values and culture, and believe in Jesus as the Messiah. I identify as a Messianic Jew.
My question: Most rabbis dispute the validity of my faith and assert that I have lost my right to be called a Jew. I am troubled and perplexed by this prejudice. Why is there an empathetic understanding towards Messianic Chabadniks or Jewish Buddhists (JUBUs) but not towards Messianic Jews? Why am I ostracized while secular, atheist and non-believing Jews are accepted?
[Administrator's note: A very similar question was posted and answered at http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=139. Messianics are not Jews by the definition of any branch of Judaism.]

Your question is a good and fair one and deserves to be answered respectfully.

To begin with— there is no such thing as losing one’s right to be called a Jew. A Jew is a person who is born to a Jewish mother or has converted to Judaism. There is no mechanism in Jewish law for stripping a person of their preexisting Jewish identity— even a person who is placed under a ban of excommunication is still a Jew, albeit one who has been excluded from the community. You are and will always be Jewish.

That said, Messianic Judaism has been defined by the entire body of Jewish community— with strikiningly unusual unanimity— as being outside of the bounds of normative Jewish theology. While Jesus may be respected as a wise and thoughtful teacher, it is incompatible with Judaism to believe that God incarnated in the person of Jesus, since this is the precise definition of what it means to be a Christian.

Claiming to practice Judaism while believing that God incarnated in the person of Jesus is akin to claiming to be a vegetarian while continuing to eat meat, or claiming to be celibate while continuing to have sex. To Jewish ears, it is simply a contradiction in terms.

Bottom line: No one has the right to tell you what you can or cannot believe. You absolutely have the right to continue to practice Jewish rituals and identify with your Jewish heritage and to maintain your belief in Jesus as the Messiah. Such beliefs do not make you a bad person, nor do they invalidate your inherited Jewish identity.

However, and this is a big however, the collective Jewish community (like any community) does retain the right to define its own boundaries and borders. It is not fair to demand equal recognition for a belief system that has been deemed incompatible with Judaism’s core identity. This is particularly the case when the belief system you espouse already has a name, and that is Christianity.

Question: I have been raised a Roman Catholic my entire life. I have always loved the Jewish faith and customs. I have recently discovered that my mother and her parents and her entire ancestry were Jewish. They converted to Christianity to avoid persecution in Poland before coming to America. I now have a whole history, culture and way of being that I was unaware of. I want to study and learn more of Judaism. I do not yet know if I want to convert. What should I do? Thank you for your answer. Eleanor

What an amazing discovery about your family's past (and potentially, its future)!

As you certainly know, there have been many times in Jewish history when we have needed to disguise or deny our identities in order to survive. As a rabbi who runs a program for people converting to Judaism, I have been overwhelmed by the number of stories, like yours, of people who rediscover Jewish roots in the most unlikely of places. I am moved by the fact that quite often these people report that they have felt a life-long affinity toward Judaism, even if they couldn't place its source. I believe that our hearts know things about us that our minds often do not.

I encourage you to learn more about Judaism, so that you can gain an understanding of the customs, traditions, and practices that your family carried for many centuries. You can do this for signing up for a class at a local synagogue or Jewish community center (if you are in Southern California, I encourage you to check out the Miller Introduction to Judaism Program, which I run). There are also a great many website (one of the best is MyJewishLearning.com) and, of course, tons of books. You can check out a good list of suggested reading by clicking here.

In the end, your decision about whether to embrace Judaism as a new spiritual path for you, or to retain your Roman Catholic traditions with a new and deeper appreciation for your cultural roots is a very personal one, which doesn’t need to be made now. Beginning with learning is always a great first step.

I wish you great inspiration as you seek, and offer blessings that you find meaning in the answers that you receive.

One kind of story focuses on just the facts and details. These are the kind of stories that you learn in school, particularly in science or a social studies class. Stories like this which tell you where the capital of France is, or who invented the light bulb, or what caused the Civil War.

Then there is another kind of story— which doesn’t bother to tell you all the details, because it is focused instead on teaching you something much deeper and more important about life. These are tales that you have heard from your parents and grandparents, legends and fables that you have read in books, and images that you have seen in (good) movies and television shows.

The stories in the Bible are the second kind of stories. They don’t explain exactly how Moses split the Red Sea, or where all the water went after Noah’s Flood, or even who married Adam and Eve’s sons and kept the world going. They are just not interested in telling you those kind of details. Instead, the stories in the Bible are very focused on teaching us about how to live a good and holy life.

The story of Adam and Eve doesn’t tell us much about how life on Earth actually began (for that, we should look at a science book), but it tells us a lot about what we are doing here: It teaches us that we are all God's children and are made b’tzelem Elohim, which means that we carry a little spark of God inside of us. It teaches us that we are not supposed to damage or destroy this world that we have been given through pollution or violence, but instead should take care of it and keep it safe. It teaches us that if we look back far enough, we are all members of one big family and must treat each other with respect and care.

The Bible isn’t a science book, or a history book—it’s a meaning book. When you read its stories, don’t get stuck on filling in all the little details, but do dig deep into the big messages. They will change your life and help you be part of healing the world.

Question: Hello rabbi,
I will apologize ahead of time for the words I'm about to write.
I'm 14 years old, and from what I know masturbation is against Jewish law, but I find it really hard not to do so when my body really demands it.
Maybe I could do it one last time because I haven't done so in three months.
Please tell me what I can do that is acceptable within Jewish law and thought.
[Admin Note: A similar question was answered on Jewish Values Online previously; see - http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=153.]

Thank you for your question and sharing a very personal struggle that lots of people wonder and worry about, but are too afraid to ask.

It is true that traditional Jewish sources over the centuries have frowned on masturbation, some even take a rather extreme stance on the subject calling it a serious sin. However, most of these sources base themselves on archaic medical beliefs and superstitions, which have been disproven by contemporary science. We can therefore take a very different view today.

Contemporary studies of human sexuality suggest that nearly all men, and most women, masturbate at some point in their lives. This is particularly common during teenage years, when hormones are at a lifetime high, but it is not yet age appropriate to engage in sexual intercourse with a partner. As Rabbi Elliot Dorff, the Conservative Movement’s foremost legal authority of issues of medical ethics writes: In a choice between masturbation and sex, it is certainly preferable for a teenager to choose the former— because it carries no risk of pregnancy, diseases including HIV/AIDS, or intense emotional commitment beyond what you should have to be ready for at such a young age (see “Matters of Life and Death: A Jewish Approach to Modern Medical Ethics,” pgs 117-120).

Masturbation should always been done in private, and is only harmful when it becomes obsessive or starts to interfere with normal routines like sleeping or getting work done. Otherwise, it should be considered a normal part of human sexuality, neither immoral nor dangerous, and shouldn’t be a source of guilt or anxiety.

For more information about sexual health and making responsible choices, I highly recommend the amazing website, Go Ask Alice, designed for and by students at Columbia University, which offers accurate, honest, and detailed answers to a wide variety of questions about sexual, emotional, and physical health.

The Jewish Tradition has long acknowledged the profound role that adoptive parents play in the lives of their children. Nearly two thousand years ago, the Talmud codified that one who raises an adopted child in their home is to be treated as the natural parent in all regards (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 19b).

However, Jewish law has historically discouraged closed adoptions because of a serious concern in halakhic literature about the (somewhat soap opera-esque) possibility that an adopted child might inadvertently fall in love with a biological relation and enter into a forbidden marriage. For that reason, while Jewish legal authorities permit adoption, they generally insist that whenever possible the identity of the birthparents be made known to the child-- so that they can avoid becoming romantically entangled with an unknown cousin or sibling down the line.

In the pre-modern world, the odds of such a mishap were signifcantly higher than they are today. In our society, in which adopted children are often raised in different cities or even different countries than their birthparents, one might fairly question the chances of an accidental encounter with a relative. It is for that reason that, although they discourage closed adoptions, contemporary Jewish legal authorities have ruled that the child of such an arrangement can freely marry whomever they choose, without concern that the marriage might be consanguineous (Noda B’Yehudah, E.H., 7; Iggrot Moshe Y.D I, 161).

It has become customary for mourners to gather at the cemetery for a ceremonial "unveiling" of the headstone of a loved one who has died. This is a powerful ritual moment to bring together friends and relatives to reflect on the legacy of the deceased and to pay honor to their memory.

In general, the custom is for the unveiling to happen at approximately the one year mark following a death (see Lamm, "The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning," Klein, "A Guide to Jewish Practice," etc). This is a natural time for such a gathering, as it can mark the conclusion of the formal period of mourning.

However, since unveiling is a purely a minhag (custom), unknown to either the Talmud or the Codes of Jewish Law, there is no halakha (law) to when or how it must be done. While the custom has become to do it within the first year, if for some reason the ceremony is delayed, there is no reason why it cannot take place at a later time. If family and friends find it meaningful and comforting to gather and recall the life of someone who has died, there is no reason to deny them that opportunity for healing.

Question: During the High Holidays, in the process of teshuvah, we repent for past sins. I understand that in our (Jewish) view, repentance means that we are sorry for the sins that we have committed, we try to repair the injuries we have caused, we ask forgiveness from God and man, and we resolve to do better in the future. Christianity appears to have a very different idea of what it means to repent and atone for a sin, and how a sin is forgiven. Can you try to explain this difference, please (I understand that I am asking Jewish rabbis, and not Christians to speak to these differences)?

In 1976, Simon Wiesenthal published a remarkable book entitled “The Sunflower.” The book is divided into two parts: First, Mr. Wiesenthal shares a true story from his time as a prisoner in Auschwitz. He tells about being summoned to the bedside of a dying Nazi officer who wished to confess his crimes and gain forgiveness before he dies. In the second half, the author invites responses from faith leaders of many different religious denominations, asking them to reflect on forgiveness in general and his tale in specific. What emerges is a symposium between figures as diverse as Rabbi Harold Kushner, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and the Dalai Lama on the nature and limitations of forgiveness.

One of the clearest themes to emerge from among the responses is a stark contrast between the Christian and the Jewish thinkers on this subject. Almost without exception, the Christian theologians—from both Protestant and Catholic backgrounds—argue that we have a moral duty to offer forgiveness in all circumstances. As Father Theodore Hesburgh, former President of the University of Notre Dame wrote: “Of course the sin here is monumental. But, it is still finite and God’s mercy is infinite” (Wiesenthal, 169). And, also almost without exception, the Jewish thinkers argue that one cannot offer full forgiveness to a murderer, since the travesty he perpetrated cannot ever be undone, the victims cannot be restored to life.

This division reflects a basic gulf between most Christian and Jewish thought on the subject. For Christians, God is the sole author of forgiveness and as God’s grace is limitless so too is the possibly of repentance. However, in Jewish teaching, true teshuvah must include a good faith attempt to repair any harm that was done before one can seek divine pardon. This leads to an important caveat-- when such someone is unable or unwilling to take these steps, there is no possibility of complete healing. This basic concept is put succinctly in the Mishnah, the first code of rabbinic law, in which we learn: “Yom Kippur atones for transgressions between oneself and God; however, for transgressions that affect other human beings, Yom Kippur does not atone until one has first reached out their fellow” (Mishnah, Yoma 8:9).

Question: What is the Jewish perspective on the illegal immigration crisis in Israel? The Torah commands us to care for the foreigners and immigrants among us. Does that extend to illegal immigrants? Is it right to send them back, as is happening now, or are we obligated to take them in and help them?

Every sovereign state has the right to regulate its borders and to determine who may immigrate and who may not. For Israel, the challenge of maintaining a uniquely Jewish democracy adds additional variables that must be considered. However, the meaning of “Jewish democracy” cannot only be a question of the religious affiliation of its citizens. A Jewish democracy must be guided by Jewish values, must answer the call of the Jewish soul and of the Jewish conscience.

The foundational story of our People is one of fleeing persecution and seeking a new life in a Promised Land. Every year at Passover, we remind ourselves that we are to see ourselves as though we personally came out of Egypt-- to remember that the story of our ancestors is also our story, and that we have a sacred obligation to remember its message and live out its ethical demands. No fewer than thirty-six times in the Torah we are told to care for the stranger, even to love him, because we were strangers in the Land of Egypt. We know her heart, because we faced the same unimaginable challenge of faith of seeking out a new life in an unknown place, with hope that it would be better for ourselves and our children.

The modern story of the Jewish People is also one of seeking refuge. For those of us who live in America, it was our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents who crossed oceans to build new lives in the goldene medina, who welcomed the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Even more so, Israel was founded to be a gathering place for Exiles-- for those who had faced Hitler's hellfire and for those from all corners of the Earth who were weary and ready to come home after two thousand years. Israel is a land of refugees who came together to erect a modern miracle.

Today, thousands of Africans are literally walking across the same deserts that we once traversed, fleeing regimes of genocide and mass starvation, in hope of finding welcome in the Promised Land. The Jewish soul, the one that marched out of Egypt, the one that crossed through Ellis Island, the one that left Europe and Yemen and Morocco and Ethiopia and built a thriving, vibrant country, cannot be indifferent toward their plight. To do so would be a shameful betray our deepest memories and our most foundational ethics.

Question: Is it religiously permissible in Jewish law for a(n) (Orthodox) Jewish woman to make derogatory statements about another Jew (i.e., listing the individual's full name) on a blog that is viewable by the entire public? Wouldn't this be lashon hara (evil speech) or motzei shem ra (causing a bad name), especially in such a large forum?

Our Tradition teaches that lashon ha'ra, hateful or destructive speech, is a serious affront to human dignity and incompatible with God's vision of a community based on justice and compassion. We are taught in the Book of Psalms: "Who is the person who desires life, who loves days of seeing goodness? Guard your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking maliciously" (Ps. 34:13-14).

Specifically, the Jewish Tradition is very strict about the prohibition on shaming others in public. Maimonides, the greatest Jewish legal and philosophical of the Middle Ages writes: “It is forbidden to embarrass one’s fellow, particularly in public… it is a great sin” (Mishnah Torah, Laws of Conduct 6:8). The Rabbis of the Talmud even go so far as to say that for one who shames another in public, it is as if they have spilled the other’s blood (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia 58b). Derogatory statements posted on a publicly accessible website could absolutely fall under this category and would thus constitute a serious violation of Jewish law and ethics.

One final note, the prohibition on lashon ha’ra is neither more nor less stringent for those who identify as Orthodox as for any other Jew. Whatever our denominational affiliation, we are all obligated to guard our tongues and use our gift of speech for holiness rather than for destruction.

Question: My three Reform Jewish children have each married non-Jews. Each of them are raising their children as Jews. What is the best practice with respect to Christmas trees in their homes?
[Administrator's Note: A question on this topic arises periodically, particularly in the December timeframe (for obvious reasons). For related responses that may offer additional information, please see other questions on the JVO website that address this topic.]

One of the greatest gifts that a parent can give their child is a religious identity. We hope that our children will be rooted in something that is enduring, meaningful and deeply enmeshed with values. By giving our children the gift of religious roots we help them grow up feeling secure and confident in who they are and connected with a community that supports and embraces them. For these reasons, it is important for an interfaith couple to make the often difficult decision of raising their children within a single faith, rather than giving them a mixture of identities. As study after study shows, children raised with multiple faiths most often wind up identifying with none at all.

While the Christmas tree can more easily trace its origins to pagan nature worship than anything truly connected with the Christian faith, it has become a ubiquitous symbol of Christian culture in our society. Having a Christmas tree in a home in which the parents have committed to raising their children as Jews sends a mixed message to kids about the identity and values of their home, and so should be avoided.

That said, for many non-Jewish parents raising Jewish children (and there are thousands across the country who are daily making this remarkable life-choice) Christmas is often the single most difficult element of their own identity to give up. Christian parents who have no trouble driving their kids to Bar Mitzvah lessons or shlepping the Passover dishes up from the basement, sometimes have a hard time with the idea of not sharing their most deeply held Christmas memories with their children. While your sons and daughters-in-law may be genuinely committed to raising their children as Jews, it is important to respect how difficult that choice can be around this time of year and sometimes, like in all matters of family, compromises must be made.

The most important thing that you can do, as a Jewish grandparent, is to make your home a welcoming, engaging Jewish space-- full of tradition, learning, and celebration. You cannot control what your children ultimately decide to do in their own homes, but you can make sure that your grandchildren experience your home as a place where they are proud to be Jews and can form life-long Jewish memories of their own.

Question: Small groups of violent ultra-Orthodox in Israel seem to have strayed from Torah values, which is a chilul Hashem. Are there collaborative or independent initiatives from the three main denominations to meet with and inform the ultra-Orthodox leadership how their violent actions (rock throwing, spitting on others, verbal abuse) negatively portray the Jewish people to the world?

Religious faith is one of the most powerful forces on Earth—with the ability to shape lives and transform whole civilizations. Like anything so powerful- when placed in the hands of flawed human beings, it can be used for good or ill. Inevitably, every religious group will develop a small, but dangerous extremist element who misuse religion’s power and use it to justify their own destructive impulses. The Jewish community is no more immune from this problem than is any other religious community.

Over the past decades, we have been tested in our response to atrocities committed in Judaism’s name. In 1994, an extremist settler named Baruch Goldstein entered into a mosque in Hebron and shot twenty-seven Muslim worshippers as they prayed.One year later, Yigal Amir assassinated Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin for supposedly betraying Jewish principles by negotiating for peace. Thankfully, every major organization and denomination of Judaism forcefully and with a unified voice denounced these brutal crimes and their perpetrators.

However, today we are witness to a frightening surge in crimes being committed by Jewish extremists. This ranges from the verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse directed against individuals who enter ultra-Orthodox enclaves without “proper” dress to incidents of large-scale violence with major political consequences. This week, settler groups vandalized and set fire to a mosque near Ramallah and also turned their ire on their fellow Jews, attacking an Israeli Army base in response the removal of a few illegal outposts. Israeli government authorities and many religious figures have condemned these attacks, but the trend is truly disturbing.

The Jewish community must speak out loudly and consistently against any acts of violence, large or small, committed in its name. Our Tradition demands that we give tochecha, caring but firm reproof to those in our community who commit transgressions (Leviticus 19:17). The Talmud goes so far as to say that passivity in the face of a great wrong implicates us in the guilt for that crime (Shabbat 54b). When we encounter extremism or violence in a portion of our community, we have a holy obligation to not remain silent. The future of the Jewish People depends on it.

We have so much to be grateful for—family, friends, plenty, opportunity, and liberty unequalled at any time in our history. Thanksgiving is a chance to pause, together with people that we love, and to notice how blessed we truly are. Prayers of gratitude are very appropriate at this time

1) Starting the meal with “Motzi” and ending with “Birkat HaMazon” (either the full or an abbreviated version) reminds us that the food in front of us is a gift to be savored, rather than just inhaled. These prayers also call our attention to the painful truth that food is not yet a blessing equally enjoyed by all people and reminds us that we share the responsibility to make sure that in this world of bounty, no one should go hungry.

2) While there is no traditional liturgy for the Thanksgiving meal, noted author and teacher Rabbi Naomi Levy has composed a truly beautiful prayer for the holiday table in her book, Talking to God:

A Prayer for the Thanksgiving Feast

by Rabbi Naomi Levy

For the laughter of the children, for my own life breath, for the abundance of food on this table, for the ones who prepared this sumptuous feast, for the roof over our heads, the clothes on our backs, for our health, and our wealth of blessings. For this opportunity to celebrate with family and friends, for the freedom to pray these words without fear, in any language, in any faith, in this great country, whose landscape is as vast and beautiful as her inhabitants. Thank You, God, for giving us all these.

3) The final and most important way to bring prayer to your Thanksgiving celebration is by opening your heart and offering your own words of gratitude. Consider going around the table and asking each person to complete this sentence:

“Modim anachnu lach, God I am so grateful for…”

Keep it simple, make sure to include even the smallest kids, and if the Hebrew might be an obstacle for anyone, skip it. The important part is to give each person the opportunity to find what they are truly grateful for and to share their blessings with one another and with God. These are the prayers that ascend straight to Heaven.

Question: The rabbi of our synagogue is always exhorting the members to come to services. Come for selichot, for shacharit every morning, for mincha/maariv on Shabbat afternoon. Honestly, Iím busy, I have work and family, and I donít find prayer services particularly meaningful. Why should I go to shul? Whatís in it for me?

One of Judaism’s fundamental insights about the human condition is that we need community to be full human beings. In the story of Creation, the first thing that God labeled as “not good” was loneliness—lo tov heyot ha’adam levado—it’s not good for human beings to be alone.

Our Tradition requires that a minyan, a quorum of ten Jewish adults, be present both for the saying of the Wedding Blessings and for the Mourner Kaddish—because life’s sweet moments are more joyful when shared with others and life’s inevitable tragedies are easier to bear when we have one another to lean on. In between those peak moments, our day to day prayers also require a minyan, so that we continue to build deeper and deeper lines of connection with the members of our community.

The blessing of being an active participant in your synagogue is the ongoing presence of caring community that can support you, share with you, challenge you, and help you to continue to grow toward a life of greater meaning, purpose, and holiness. In our alienating, disconnected modern world—what could be more essential than that?

That said, not every part of the synagogue experience will be right for every person at every time in their lives. Some will be drawn to participate in prayer, others in learning, others in volunteer work, and others in the pursuit of social justice. If prayer services are not the right way for your connect with your community, I invite you to think broadly about what might be your route in. A world of blessing awaits.

THE VIEWS EXPRESSED IN ANSWERS PROVIDED HEREIN ARE THOSE OF THE INDIVIDUAL JVO PANEL MEMBERS, AND DO NOT
NECESSARILY REFLECT OR REPRESENT THE VIEWS OF THE ORTHODOX, CONSERVATIVE OR REFORM MOVEMENTS, RESPECTIVELY.